


For Her

by sycamoretree



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Movie Spoilers, Psychological Torture, Rape, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sycamoretree/pseuds/sycamoretree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on the Hobbit kink meme: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/9471.html?thread=20986879#t20986879 The Master of Laketown threatens to attack rape Bard's oldest daughter Sigrid unless Bard takes her place. I worked the story into the timeline and happenings in the movie, so beware if you don't want spoilers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Her

The Master licked his greasy lip and puffed his barrel of a chest out. He held his hands behind his back and finally pursed his lips, done considering the frustrated man behind the bars.

“To hide thieving fugitives in your house makes you a criminal yourself, Bard.”

Bard gritted his teeth and ignored the throbbing bump on his head from the blow when he was assaulted in the town earlier that evening. Instead the tall, proud man began to pace his cage, his heavy coat flaring.

“Last time I saw, all of Laketown cheered for those ‘thieves’ and ‘fugitives’ at the docks, after you had had them equipped with the finest armour to aid them in their foolish mission.”

The master chuckled even as his thin eyes peered maliciously at him.

“I suggest you bite your tongue. This is your trial and I am your judge. You ought to remember that as much as I embraced Thorin’s Company with open arms, my permission for their stay only extended to noon today when their boat departed. However, my intelligence tells me that no less than _four_ dwarves remained illegally in the city, and they found sanctuary in your little house. Do remember that those greedy shortlings attempted to rob the city armory only yesterday! They cannot be trusted and it was wrong of you to offer up your home to this group of leftovers.”

Bard twisted his mouth. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, and he was very uncomfortable in the narrow cell that gave him little freedom to move. Anxiety rose in his chilled bones at the thought of that fragile wooden house containing wounded and exhausted guests, and his own children being secretly surrounded by spies and guards.

Not that he suspected either the dwarves to attack his son and daughters, nor did he think the Master dared to send his guards to seize the house's inhabitants. But their vulnerability in his absence shone like a stark, blinding flame in his mind. He needed to be out of this accursed cell!

He wrenched his head up and glared at the grinning, fat, old man from under his dark, tangled fringe.

“Get on with it then! Find me guilty of disobedience, betrayal to my city, and fraud, like you’ve done so many times before, and condemn me to pay a fine.”

His growl was met with a confused expression on the leader.

“But, dear Bard; during those times you had committed crimes of a different nature. To smuggle and spread lies about the leader is absolutely not comparable to the abhorring thing you have done tonight. No, this time you’re in for a far graver measure of punishment. You see, it’ not meant to hurt you; it is because I adore you as my citizen and I want you to learn how to improve your loyalty once and for all.”

Bard stalked over to the thick bars and clutched a pair in anger. The coldness of the iron did little to cool his mounting rage.

“What will you have of me?” he hissed and the Master raised a hand to twirl his disgustingly thin moustache.

“I am a very generous and benevolent leader. All I sentence you to is a proof of love that the house of Bard the Bowman truly likes me. I want a night with the oldest one in the house in my bed.”

Bard paled and his rage drained from him.

“You… you want me to…”

The Master made a face and pretended to shudder. All his chins shook from the movement. He sighed with false pity and amusement in his voice.

“So angry all the time, and yet so dumb, like the rest of the uneducated crowd. No, Bard, I didn’t mean you. I meant the oldest one in your house. The oldest one who resides there in this moment.”

This time, Bard truly felt dense like a fool as he tried to comprehend what had been said. He was the man of the house. The oldest one. Except he was in a cell and the Master surely couldn’t refer to…

“Sigrid,” he mumbled and in front of him, the Master beamed and pointed at him.

“That’s the name of the girl! I’d forgotten. Well, now I have something sweet to call her once she’s writhing underneath me…”

The tirade was cut off with a loud crash when Bard threw himself against the bars and smashed his shoulder into the iron. The dark-haired father found that the cage didn’t budge and so, he thrust his arms in the gaps between the bars and reached for the leader who jumped and staggered back, having been surprised by the unexpected reaction.

“Take that back! If you lay one single finger on my daughter; I’ll drown you slow in a hole in the ice!”

Bard’s roar and violence was all he could cling to in this hour of despair. He needed to get out and keep all his children safe. They needed him to…

“I’ll pretend I didn’t catch that,” the Master remarked archly and straightened his jacket with a petulant look. “I had hoped that the knowledge of your beautiful daughter’s wellbeing being immediately linked to your own behaviour would have stayed your hand and your foul tongue just now. Perhaps you’ll see sense once you understand that there’s nothing you can do to change the sentence. I have judged you and your poor daughter is paying for it. I wonder if she’s a scared or a salacious virgin.”

Bard sank to his knees, his insides coiling and nausea making him feel weaker than the dying fish caught in a net. It was brought on by the deepest feeling of defeat and fear, but he did in a way bend the knee to the Master. He had misjudged the man’s cruelty. His pride had to make way for submission.

With a bowed head and a hoarse whisper, Bard managed, “Please, don’t do this. Spare her. Don’t make her pay for my crimes.”

Above him, the Master lifted an eyebrow.

“But it would make you so obedient! Look at you; already showing improvement! Just imagine how good you would behave if I always took Sigrid to warm my bed whenever you failed to follow the laws; if you knew that the manner in which I will treat her will depend on how you are treating me and your town.”

Bard mumbled into his lap and curled his fingers restlessly against the worn leather of his breeches.

“You’ll get my obedience from hereon. I swear it, on my wife’s cold grave, that I shall not displease you again… Master. You’ve guaranteed my allegiance through my daughter. But nevertheless, I claim the father’s right to protect his child.”

At that moment, Bard lifted his head and stared up at his Master with pleading, desolate eyes but with a determined look on the rest of his face. The Master remained listening at the man, surprised by how well his plan was working out but curious about Bard’s firm words mumbled to him. It was certainly relieving to see his constantly complaining citizen be subdued. Exciting even.

Bard on the other hand applied the softest of tones he only had used for his late wife and his children before, knowing that Sigrid’s happiness and health was on stake. It would take but one command and the Master would have the guards invading his home and securing Sigrid in their filthy clutches. He couldn’t risk that. He would rather sacrifice himself than his beloved and brave daughter.

“As a father, and the legal guardian of Sigrid, I wish to exchange places with her. I will take the punishment and show my love for the high-born, magnificent Master of Laketown for a whole night. But I’ll only do it if you swear to not harm or even talk to her. That is my right to ask of you. You know the laws. You created them.”

The Master was ready to sneer at the insolent rat that of course he knew his own laws, but the proposition was far too enticing to be distracted from.

“Why, Bard, I never thought you would consider such a pure act of loyalty! Because you looked positively white earlier when you misunderstood who the sentence would affect. Are you telling me now that you would _love_ to lie down on my bed and let me seek comfort in your body? What changed?”

Bard swallowed rising bile and averted his gaze to stare in shame at the stone floor. How low he had sunken, and kept sinking, into the depths of dark waters, far from the bright world above the choking surface. Such lies and wrong actions that suddenly poured from his mouth and tamed his limbs.

“I am willing to show you how much I love Laketown and my Master. If you swear, you’ll have a composed, disciplined and eager man warming your bed tonight.”

It was the only way. If Bard could pursuade the Master to take him instead of Sigrid, Sigrid would be saved. Furthermore, the knowledge of this new threat hanging over him and his family would ensure that Bard behaved, because if the Master kept putting his daughters in harm’s way in order to punish him into loyalty, Bard would stay far away from crimes in the future.

He would have to endure one night with the Master, and a life of nodding and agreeing with a pompous fool of a leader, but that would be worth it. Oh, it would so be worth it if he could spare Sigrid from the awful fate.

The master dared to take a step forward, well within reach should Bard make a grab for him again, but the father sat on the floor and observed passively. The thin, greasy lips curled upwards when the Master realized that Bard would keep his oath to stay calm. The Master wouldn’t be foolish enough to bring a cunning, wild beast into his private chamber and be murdered in there.

So now, when Bard so obviously presented himself as the low, silenced creature he was destined to be, the Master was finally convinced. He had won.

“Agreed, Bard. I swear to switch the girl for you and to not threaten or hurt her in any way. You will be a free man after this night, and I expect an obedient citizen to leave my palace come sunrise. I’ll go and tell the prison guard to escort you to my chamber now.”

The round man began to trot down the hall in his high-heeled shoes before he halted and turned, glancing back at the man with a crouched back and a slumped coat slung over his shoulders. Hardly a figure resembling the annoyingly striking feature of Bard.

The Master couldn’t resist one more teasing comment, steadily growing more eager and hungry for pleasure.

“Though, I have to admit; I will miss little Sigrid’s little breasts tonight. So you better offer me a good compensation for that loss.”

He received a nod and imperiously continued on his way to the guards.

***

The torch flickered and was too bright and warm. The room was already stifling with the heat from dozens of stinking candles and torches. Not even a window was open to let in fresh air or darkness. Apparently the Master wanted Bard completely to himself; not even letting any sounds escape the chamber.

Heat and stench from the foul copulation prickled Bard’s skin as the Master took him again; this time on his hands and knees on the stained bed. Bard would have preferred an open window without the shutters concealing the sky outside. It would have been easier to suffer through the torture if he knew for how long he had been there, and how much longer it would take until dawn arrived and ended his punishment.

The moans against his sweaty back and the slaps on his rear when the Master’s unmentionable private parts bounced against him brought Bard from his thoughts and reminded him once again of his trapped situation. Clearly, the Master had stamina and could go on  for a long time each session, and his claiming was always revolting and painful.

Bard winced when the swollen manhood was shoved again deep inside him, doing all he could to prevent tears from watering his blood-shot eyes. At least he was torn now and not tight and narrow like the first time. His own blood might stain his legs but the scarlet, liquid life also served to slick the passage and make the taking somewhat gentler.

Although, Bard was troubled about the numbness in his legs and the stabbing feeling in his abdomen.

Albeit being a disillusioned man, Bard admitted to be shocked that a hardened, rounded and smooth manhood meant for making babies or giving pleasure could sting and hurt so much when forced inside another man. But then again, it was all in the word, wasn’t it? _Forced_.

Suddenly his escape into his mind was interrupted again by the Master’s excited pants as he slid his sticky, greedy hand in Bard’s damp black strands and pushed the head down demandingly.

“I like you below me. But really, Bard; you are a virgin to men? I’d never imagined. You’ve done well tonight to gain my forgiveness and mercy, pretty Bard. To offer your virginity to me… a true proof of love for your leader.”

“Yes, master. Thank you, Master,” Bard ground out, gripping the yellowish sheet with helpless fingers. The Master hummed and moved faster but shallower; agitating Bard’s flesh like a rash.

“Good, obedient servant of a citizen!” The Master matched each word with a thrust. “I knew I could count on you, when given the correct incitement. And you did compensate for the girl with your untouched hole. So as a treat, I’ll tell you a secret.”

Bard exhaled and closed his eyes when he felt the man leaning over him and pressing his naked belly against his arched back. A pungent smell came from the other man when he whispered next to Bard’s ear, “You’re right, I am a tyrant; a monster ruling my own town as I please. But right now, I am the monster who is conquering you. I win.”

All Bard's instincts told him to throw the rapist off his back and defend himself but he couldn’t. Invisible bonds of fatherhood kept him splayed and harmless on the creased sheet as the other man drove into him harshly and relentlessly. Bard bit his tongue to not snarl or shout or insult or cry.

His tilted his head under the dominating hand and trained his dark eyes on the blinding flames from the torch. He let his mind drift off while his body was used and abused for the sake of entertainment, pettiness, and blackmail.

He thought of a string of words that filled his torn heart with a small comfort and proud protection. Feelings he had gotten when he for the first time held his impossibly small and wrinkly firstborn in his shaking hands. 'Daughter of _mine._ Daughter of _mine.'_


End file.
